I Suppose I'm Not Surprised
by Amybell
Summary: When Edward abruptly leaves, Bella's not all that surprised. But when Bella picks up a dangerous habit, Edward sure is. Will he make it in time to save her from herself? Will he ever gain ultimate forgiveness? Review!
1. The End

"Goodbye, Love"

Chapter 3, 'Leaving' Scene, Rewrite.

Note: Before you read this, remember that in this version, Bella suspects that Edward doesn't love her, but it's in the very back of her mind. She doesn't let herself consider it, but it's like she already knows.( In the real version she has no idea what Edward is about to do.)

"Come for a walk with me," he suggested in an unemotional voice, taking my hand. I didn't answer right away, for a moment I lost my voice.

"Wait, Edward. We need to talk. I feel like you don't-"

"Calm down, Bella," he interrupted in a serious, yet still detached voice, "I'll explain everything in a moment. Let's walk."

He pulled me by the hand to the east side of the yard, where the forest just began to encroach. I trailed along, torn. Part of me wanted to stop him, demand that he explain it all now. The other part wanted to run. I just wanted to escape my thoughts. The theory I held in the blackest depths of my mind eagerly began to creep to the surface. After all that happened in the last few days, the theory seemed logical, possible even; but on top of that, infinitely agonizing. The panic choked me.

We were barely concealed in the edge of the forest when he stopped. The house was clearly visible. Some walk.

As he leaned against a tall spruce, he looked down and said nothing. The panic that choked me before, was now strangling me. It was almost painful.

"Alright, let's talk." I was surprised that I could speak at all. The fear was closing my throat, I couldn't breathe right.

"Bella, we're leaving." He stared at me with cold, unfriendly eyes. It didn't hurt so much now. It was the same looked he thrashed out for the last three days.

My theory was almost near the brim of my conscious mind. Before, I had only subconsciously considered it, but brushed it off. Now, with him standing before me with remote, detached eyes, it seemed that much more likely.

"Why?" It was a simple question, yet, it was one of the hardest ones I'd ever had to ask. A simple question that's many possible answers could literally kill me where I stood.

He took a deep breath, and held it for several minutes. He finally exhaled in a sigh. He looked at the ground again; I wasn't sure what he saw. I stood in the same place as before, frozen, unable to even blink.

"It's time. Did you really think we could stay in Forks much longer? Carlisle can barely pass for thirty, and he's claiming thirty-three now."

A startling, sharp pain seemed to stab at the top of my head, slowly making its way through me. I realized the pain splitting me in two, was a pain of agony, defeat, and expectancy. The pain stopped right in my core, the center of my stomach. It felt like a knife slashed across my abdomen, leaving me awed in pain, with a gaping hole across my chest. I had a feeling that this pain was not a one-time-thing. I stopped breathing, looking for a way to escape the agony.

"So, when you say we-" I spat out, a hysterical edge to my voice, but I was growing angry for some incomprehensible reason.

"I mean my family and myself," he said, cutting me off, while matching my tone without the hysteria.

No, no, no.

I stood silent for a moment; trying to gather my scrambled thoughts. Edward waited, patient, but expressionless.

As I stared at his cold, unemotional face, the theory once again rose to the surface of my consciousness.

This time it scared me. He told me he was leaving, and I felt a sense of…conviction? No. Confirmation... Yes. I expected this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was coming. I wanted so badly to deny it. Yet, I would always know that it was pure fiction, our love. It was something to unbelievable to be true. How could someone like him, ever want someone like me?

I felt it coming. I knew what he was trying to tell me. I wasn't so sure of myself, though. He swore his love to me so many times. How could this be true? The pain and anger I felt helped me to think clearly; be decisive. I decided I would play dumb. I would not believe it until he spoke the words himself.

"Fine," I said, surprised at how calm I sounded. "I'll come with you."

"You can't, Bella. Where we're going…it's not the right place for you." He seemed almost nervous as he said this. I decided to try and force his true intentions out of him. I had a strange sense that I would regret it.

"Where you are is the right place for me. I love you, Edward." I whispered the words with pain in my voice, true pain, I wasn't playing anymore; I needed to know the truth.

"I'm not good for you, Bella." He continued to look down. He had not looked at my face since we began talking.

"Don't be ridiculous, if anything, I'm not good for you!" I started to yell. He was about to say it. I knew it.

"Bella…I don't want you to come with me."

The pain of that sentence took my breath away. I gasped, and he finally looked up. When I looked into his eyes, it made everything worse. They were cold, colder than they had ever been; unloving, to say the least. There was not a single trace of any emotion anywhere on his face.

I tried to think through the words, to find another meaning, I couldn't accept it. I couldn't let him go.

"You…don't…want me?" I tried out the words. They sounded strange, placed in that order.

"No." He stared back at me; his eyes were deep gold, frozen gold, cold. I felt like I could see into them for miles, but nowhere in their bottomless depths could I find a contradiction to the word he'd spoken.

After the confusion ran its course, it was replaced by pain, and anger; a lot of anger. Some voice in the back of my mind told me not to be difficult, that it would only hurt me later, but I couldn't concentrate on the voice, the anger drowned it out.

"But…you…you said…" I couldn't form coherent sentences. "Don't you love me anymore?" I was surprised I could utter that sentence; it was painful even in thought.

"Bella, what happened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change. Because I'm…tired of pretending to be something I'm not, Bella. I'm not human." As I stared at his perfect, icy face, I knew he was right. He was not human. But I also knew he was avoiding my question, and I begun to hope without allowing myself to. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that."

I was getting angrier. I allowed myself to get angry because I knew it would temporarily drown out the pain. For one brief second, I wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting me. If he truly did not love me, these words would mean nothing. But if he still cared, I could show him the pain he was showing me.

"No. Don't be sorry. I don't want to hear it. You never answered my question, though. Do you love me?" It took a lot of effort to bring my voice to the same indifferent, cold tone, which Edward had sported for these last three days.

"Bella, please don't make me-" He said this in an almost annoyed tone, it made me enraged.

"Yes or no? Just answer." I was getting more furious by the second. How could he do this to me? I couldn't even think of any possible motives.

"I did." He looked down as he said this, almost as if he had to control his expression. I doubted that, though. What would he need to control? What was I to him?

I instantly regretted making him answer my question. The pain made me fall to my knees. Edward acted as if he hadn't noticed. I was shaking with sobs by the time he spoke again, but he had no trace of concern or compassion in his velvet voice.

"I will make you a promise, Isabella Swan. I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me. I won't come back. I won't put you through anything like this again. You can go on with your life without anymore interference from me. It will be as if I never existed."

I looked up at his glorious face, and managed to scoff at his ridiculous promise. The sound that escaped my lips was much more a cry than a scoff, but he seemed to understand that I did not take his promise seriously; or at least was not confident in his ability to keep it.

He looked at my agonized expression with fierce confusion, almost anger.

"Explain yourself," he said, sounding nearly appalled.

In that second I finally understood the source of my anger. I wasn't angry at him, if anything I was grateful for what he had given me these few months. I was furious with myself; for not being enough for him.

I stared at his confused expression, with sad eyes. The anger had faded; I would try to be honest now, and let him know exactly how I felt about this whole mess.

"Don't misunderstand; I have no doubt that you'll be able to stay away. But do you honestly believe that I would forget you? I hope that you do not think so poorly of me." The words came out in a hushed, agonized whisper. I could not look at his face; I stared unseeingly into the forest behind him.

He didn't respond. Neither of us spoke or moved. Finally, Edward broke the silence with a question.

"I'd like to ask a favor, if it's not too much," he said in a serene, tranquil voice.

"Anything," I vowed, slightly confused. What would he want from me?

"Don't do anything reckless or stupid; do you understand what I'm saying?" He spoke so intensely, it shattered my concentration. It sounded almost like he….No, he told me he didn't. I could never doubt him.

A hint of my previous anger flared inside me. "How do you expect me to keep such a promise?"

"Bella, please, for Charlie." The distance returned.

The sound of Charlie's name struck a chord. The anger died down again. "Fine."

"Honestly," he pried; as if doubting my words.

"I will," I whispered; I tried to sound genuine. In the back of my mind, I was already thinking of possible ways to betray my own words.

He seemed to relax a little.

"Alright, that's all. We won't bother you again."

The pain I was buried in subdued the shock of the plural he used. I had a feeling the others were gone. It seemed as though he was about to leave; I had to act quickly.

"Please, don't leave me," I begged. I was sobbing again, this hurt so much. I was still kneeling on the wet dirt; I wrapped my arms around myself; I feared that the hole in my chest would literally tear me in two.

He didn't respond. He eyes were still remote and distant, and had been for three days. With a sudden piercing stab of sorrow, I realized that my Edward left already. Three days ago.

"Goodbye, Bella." He was calm, peaceful. He looked as if he just had a great weight lifted from his chest.

I closed my eyes. With my arms still wrapped around my torso, I laid my head on my knees and sobbed.

There was a light, unnatural breeze. I snapped my head up, searching, but I knew he was already gone. The ferns gently swayed with the wind of his passage.

I couldn't move for a few hours, I just stayed curled up on the forest floor. Finally I heard an approaching car, Charlie once again, popped into my mind. I jumped up, and ran to the back of the house. I opened the slider, sprinted inside, and slammed it shut. As I took to the stairs, I felt a dull numbness spread over my body. I couldn't feel anymore; it scared me.

On the last step before the landing, I tripped over uneven carpet. I glanced down and saw a nail sticking out of the stair. I was too numb to care. As I stood, I felt a shearing pain in my left wrist. I looked down, and sure enough, there was a clean slice across my forearm. I didn't concentrate on the blood. The only thing I could think of was the pain. I could feel again. The numbness was gone. It was almost as if I…enjoyed the pain.

At that precise moment, I knew there was one way to erase the numbness, and feel again. But my idea went strictly against what I promised…him…in the forest.

Fringe benefits, I thought to myself.


	2. Waking Up

**A/N**

**So, here we go.**

**I'm trying to come up with a plot.**

**So those of you reading this, I'm going to need your input to continue.**

**FYI: Edward is coming back eventually. **

**I can't keep him away, duh.**

**Probably sooner, rather than later.**

**Also, I won't put A/N in the middle of a sentence, 'cause that's just mean.**

**But anything in bold was taken directly from the book, and anything in italics is a memory/dream/vision. **

**We good? Okay, let's roll. **

I rubbed my eyes and awoke to another gray morning. But for some reason the daily rain put an even bigger damper on my mood. Then I realized. Oh, he's gone. As if that weren't enough to make me cry, the last words I had said to him were: _Please don't leave me._ It made it worse to look back and see how pathetic I was. I hadn't realized at the time that my begging would only make him want me less. 

I rubbed my forearm across my wet cheeks and winced. I had forgotten about the cuts. I almost regretted them now, seeing how gruesome they looked. There was one accidental cut, and it wasn't even the deepest. I felt morose, even more so than yesterday. I wanted to lie, sleep forever. I never wanted to return to my nightmare again.

I was happiest when I slept. In my dreams, he would come back to me. I would relive memories of times when I thought he loved me. The meadow, sixth hour biology, and Alice, too. 

_I love you. It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true. _

If only it were.

**Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. **

**OCTOBER**

**NOVEMBER**

**DECEMBER**

**JANUARY**


	3. Friends Forever

**I don't own these characters, blah, blah, blah.**

**Also, you will obviously need some prior Twilight knowledge to understand this. **

Four months later.

This was getting painfully old. I guess I couldn't blame him, I had been leading Jacob on, however unintentionally. He finally got tired of it. What irked me was that he never said goodbye. He took all his anger and just refused to see me, to break it off at all. I couldn't handle the isolation. I needed to see him. I drove down the path to the comfortably familiar house and silenced the blaring engine. Jacob, most likely hearing the roar, came out to see - or glare, rather- at me. 

I demanded we talk it all out, I needed some answers. This was not the Jacob I knew. 

"**I thought we were friends."**

"**We were."**

It took nearly everything I had not to burst out in tears, this was all too familiar. 

_Do you love me? Yes or no? Just answer._

_I did._

"I cannot believe how corrupted you've become! Take a look in the mirror, Jacob. You've changed. What has Sam done?" I was horror-struck.

"**Stop blaming Sam."**

"**Then who should I blame?" I retorted.**

"**You don't want to hear that." **

"**The hell I don't!" I snapped. "I want to know, and I want to know **_**now**_**."**

"**You asked for it," he growled at me, eyes glinting hard. "If you want to blame someone, why don't you point your finger at those filthy, reeking bloodsuckers that you love so much?"**

"**I don't understand who you mean."**

"**The **_**Cullens**_**." **I winced. He purposefully dragged out the word, watching my pained expression as he did. 

I rose from the log we were seated on, and left. I couldn't handle that anymore.

Obviously, I wasn't good enough to be Jacob's friend. Just as I wasn't good enough to be Edward's love.

It poured rain on my drive home, seeming to mimic the relentless tears that were streaming my face. I pulled into the driveway and practically threw myself out of the truck and into the rain. I dragged my feet through the grass, making my way towards the forest I swore I would never look twice at again. I crumpled to the ground in the same place and fashion as I had done four months earlier. The wounds that were barely beginning to become bearable, were thrashed open once again. I sobbed so hard that I thought I would choke up my heart. I recounted each moment of joy he had brought me, it now brought me that much misery, but doubled. I remember the countless times that he told me he would stay, the times he told me he loved only me, that he's die without me, I remembered each one clearly. 

_Bella, I will stay with you, isn't that enough?_

If only I had known, I would have said yes.

_You are my life now._

Maybe I was, but I guess things change.

_But what would I do without you?_

He's quite clearly doing perfectly fine. 

_As long as it makes you happy, I'll be here._

If this was happy, I never wanted to be sad.

I choked on another sob and finally silenced myself. I couldn't sit here forever analyzing the new meanings behind his old words. It was over now, but I still couldn't breathe.


	4. Even It Out

**To wingedsoul007 and swathidarling, this chapter is only up so soon because of you two. Your reviews were quite amusing. :**

**If I owned **_**Twilight**_**, you'd be reading this in Borders, not on the internet. **

**By the way, send some reviews, or I don't write. This is the last chapter until I receive some more. **

**Warning: this is an intensely emotional chapter that involves self-harm.**

When every tear had left my body, I gathered enough dignity to get off the ground and walk into the shelter of Charlie's house. I couldn't even call it my home anymore, home was a word that was now foreign to me.

The pent-up angst was dying to escape. I needed some release. I'd lost everything. Anyone I'd ever truly loved had turned away from me. I felt so worthless and disgusted with myself. I absentmindedly glanced at the calendar on my bedroom door.

Oh.

Today was the eight month anniversary of the day I died inside. I suppose my subconscious had some sort of internal clock, my sadness was excessive for a reason. Now I had two lost people to mourn, and on the same day, go figure.

These days I didn't know how to spend my free time. Besides my self-destructive rituals, I did absolutely nothing. I ate, slept, and went to school. I walked over to my foggy window and sighed. I felt like some higher power was punishing me. I was eternally grateful for the euphoria that I had experienced while with Edward, I even saw the justification in his leaving. But why Jacob? Why did my once chance at being somewhat content with my now miserable existence have to be taken from me, too?

I did the only thing I could do, I sunk to the ground in front of my window and sobbed. I wailed at the top of my lungs, thankful that Charlie wasn't home. I cried for Jacob, for what he'd become. I cried for Charlie and Renee', for putting them through pain. I cried for myself, for not being able to breathe in eight months. But mostly I cried for Edward Cullen, because he was so much better off than I would ever be, and I envied him.

I paced around my bedroom --still sobbing-- trying to find anything to distract myself from doing the inevitable. I tried to read, but failed to see through my tears. I tried listening to music, but my sobs drowned out the melodies. Finally, I gave up.

I slowly made my way to my bed. I carefully lifted the comforter to reveal my box spring. I dipped my hand into the narrow slit in the fabric, coming out with a dishrag in my grasp. I turned around and walked to the window, leaning my back against it. I unwrapped the towel to unveil the stained kitchen knife.

I automatically cringed away from it. Every time I damaged myself in this way, I couldn't help thinking of Edward, and the promise I made him. I far surpassed reckless. I was suicidal. They say the first step to recovery is acceptance. I had never learned the second. I always pondered what Edward would think of me, if he were to see me, that is. The image of his sheer disgust, I suppose, was my mind's last attempt to prevent me from harming myself. I guess my mind never realized it had the opposite effect, it only fueled my fire. His beautiful face twisted into a mask of lovely resentment, made me feel all the more worthless.

I drew in a jagged, pained breath as I pushed the sleeve of my jacket up my forearm, wincing as I did so. For a moment I was mesmerized by the criss-crossed lines that danced along my wrists. I stopped to count the lines of my apathy. Twenty-two on the left arm. Eager, I removed my jacket completely, gazing at both arms side-by-side. Only twelve on the right forearm. I decided to even them out. I only needed ten more.

I held my right arm away from my torso, lifting it fractionally towards my face. I then bent my wrist backward, so that my hand faced --palm outwards-- away from me. I brought the blade to my skin, and --biting my lip-- began to make clean, direct slices. Going at a painfully slow pace, and ignoring the blood as it pooled in the crease of my elbow, I counted the marks as I added them.

"Three…four…five…"

**Next chapter is Edward's POV.**


	5. Consequences

**What? **

**You thought I was Stephenie Meyer?**

**Well, sorry to disappoint you, but you're wrong.**

**Without further ado, Edward Cullen.**

**EPOV.**

The wind and rain whipped furiously through my hair as I ran. I let my emotions spill out physically. The anguish needed an outlet for release. I ran fast and hard, my feet making large dents in the moist earth as I treaded. I knocked down all obstacles in my way with unconscious force. Ferns, dirt, rocks, and massive trees parted like the Red Sea beneath my inhumanly strengthened limbs. I was traveling to no particular destination, and had been for months now. Ever since I left Forks, left Bella, my existence has consisted of running nowhere and living as civilly as the animals I hunted.

My family had, of course, objected to the entire ordeal. They thought we could continue after what had happened. I was deluded from the start; to possibly believe that I could maintain a relationship with a fragile human girl was ludicrous. The evening of Bella's eighteenth birthday had certainly focused my perspective.

So, three days later, I broke the purest of hearts.

The memories of Bella those three miserable days would haunt me forever. Knowing what was to come, the love clearly radiating off of her make me feel like I could vomit, if it were possible.

Even after my hours of cold indifference, her love never faltered. And that was the very worst part. Her faithfulness. Her undying devotion and love. Her uncharacteristically strong and ever-present emotion. Her entire self.

When I had looked into her eyes, told her those careless lies, I could literally see her heart breaking. The anger masking the pain would have been clear to any being. Her begging, her need, it almost made me stay. I actually stood before her, while trying to think of something to take it all back. I simply wanted to take her in my arms and say "April fools." But I fought my desire. I had to remind myself that my presence did the one thing I hated; it hurt Bella.

Those things I said were unforgivable. I could not forgive myself, I shouldn't. And neither should Bella. I broke something that was not mine to have in the first place. I had become captivated, and would remain so.

In my mind, I had taken back every harsh word and every false phrase that I had spoken to Bella. In my mind, I was forgiven by an angel. In my mind, I stayed with Bella, and watched her age in her humanity. In my mind, Bella died. Bella died a beautiful, natural, human death. And in my mind, I died the instant Bella exhaled her last, sweet-scented breath.

But in reality, in the life of Isabella Swan, Edward Cullen never even existed.

I sighed, attempting to push the thoughts from my head --and failing miserably. Continuing to run to what I believed to be East, I stopped trying to fight the memories. I let myself remember the essence of Bella.

I lost myself in the glass-clear vision of her small frame. The innocence of her soft brown hair, always fragrant. The melodic sound of her voice, whenever she said my name.

_Edward. _

The most despairingly beautiful memory was of her eyes. Large, wide, round, perfect. Dark brown and filled with the endless depths of her emotions. Eyes that called to me, held my interest, from the moment I caught sight of them.

My running suddenly ceased as I realized that I was standing in waist-high salt water. I quickly glanced around; there were two loading docks on either side of me, about eight hundred yards away. There were eleven men on each dock, and at least fifty within the ships that rested against them. I could hear the sawing of wood, and quick Chinese swearing. Oh, I was in China.

I walked out of the Pacific Ocean at a human pace, in case curious eyes rested on the fully clothed man who suddenly appeared in the water.

The millisecond that all eyes were off of me, I ran as fast a my legs could carry me, no longer having any sense of purpose.

I was half way to New Hampshire when my phone rang. I hadn't answered it in all the time I had been running, so the calls had stopped. This was most likely Alice, having seen my plans. I decided to answer for the first time in months; I'd have to face them eventually. I abruptly stopped running and flipped open the phone.

"Yes?" I asked dryly.

"You know, I knew you were a slow learner, but I didn't think it would take _this long _for you to finally understand this." Alice's usually cheery voice was now slow and harsh.

"Yes, I'm sure you all are missing my smiling face," I replied grimly.

"How long will you be? Esme is anxious."

"Of course she is. Six hours, maybe seven -- if I stop to hunt."

"Fine," she said smugly, "Oh, and by the way, happy anniversary."

The line clicked, and went dead. I went through a few menus on my phone, until I found a calendar accessory. I quickly selected it, eager as I was, I had no clue what the date was.

After what seemed like years, the small blue date lit up the tiny screen. May sixteenth.

I had left Bella eight months ago. Eight months ago to the day.

Esme had downscaled quite a lot. The New Hampshire house was barely a house at all. The place where my family was currently staying was a small cottage in the depths of the dark forest. I suppose it was convenient for hunting. But it's quaint size was so unlike Esme. I shrugged off the unsettling feeling and bounded up the porch steps. I was suddenly facing a very shallow-faced Alice.

"Come on, you're late." She then turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door ajar.

I walked inside at a human pace. I briefly glanced around and accessed the living conditions. I could see three wooden doors all side-by-side. I assumed those were the bedrooms. Only three were needed, because I hadn't seen my family since we left Forks. There was a small hallway that led to the kitchen, and a stray door that I presumed to be a restroom. My entire family sat on a couch in the center of the small front room.

Carlisle was the first to speak. "Edward…we're…glad you're back." That small statement somehow gave everyone else clearance to bombard me with embraces and kind words. None of which I deserved.

"Oh, Edward! Never leave this family again!" Esme whispered fiercely in my ear.

"I've missed you, son," Carlisle said softly.

"Yeah, it's been pretty dull without you," Emmett chuckled.

"I think your car missed you most of all," Rosalie snickered.

After a quick hug, Jasper nodded and said, "Edward. It's been a while."

Everyone continued to pat my head and ruffle my hair, while speaking messages of memories and future homes. Alice was the only one who did not hug me, and stayed completely silent.

Finally, everyone else seemed to notice her absence. Curious eyes glanced over to where she sat stilly, with her head in her hands. Jasper's expression dimmed considerably. Carlisle looked nervously at him as he joined her on the couch.

Abruptly, she spoke. "He's not staying," She said flatly.

My impassive expression hadn't changed since I walked in the door. Five pairs of pain laced eyes looked in my direction. I stayed silent. I hadn't said a word to any of them in eight months.

No one other than Alice. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her head in her hands. A choked sob passed her lips, and I suddenly realized the wake of destruction I had left behind. My family was torn apart because of me.

So, I slowly looked into each pair of eyes, and spoke face-to-face with living beings for the first time in eight months. "She's right."

The argument had finally come to a close, and I sat on the couch, opposite Alice, and reviewed the finer points of the discussion in my mind.

I had explained, as gently as I could, that I was in no position to be surrounded by happy couples. Esme was clearly devastated, but did not disagree. I apologized to everyone for my previous disappearance, and proposed an arrangement.

I had suggested that I would continue on my own, but check in every month. No one objected, so the plan was set. And here I sat, sulking beside my sister.

With my acute hearing, I easily heard her quiet sobs.

"Alice, trust me, my being here would make no one any happier. It's nothing to cry over."

"No," She seethed, "It's not. I'm not crying over you, you idiot."

I had never seen Alice so distressed; it made me afraid -- afraid for the future.

"Why _are _you crying?"

She hesitated. I opened my mind to the thoughts around me, but focused my energy on Alice.

_There are consequences to every choice, Edward. Your intentions could easily backfire. It could be worse then you ever thought possible. Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever thought about how your choices affect _others_?_

"I know the family is upset but--"

"God, Edward! Are you completely oblivious? What I'm talking about has nothing to do with our family, can't you see?"

I abruptly understood, but needed to hear her say it. "Who are you referring to, then?"

"You know exactly who I'm referring to. But fine, I'll say it. You're _killing _Bella, she's _dying _because of what you did."

My head snapped up so fast, I would have had whiplash, were I mortal. "What?" I whispered. I knew she spoke of Bella, but _killing _her? How so?

"You never really understood, did you? I thought you of all people would realize that she was different. That's why you _loved _her, right? Right, Edward?"

I flinched and clenched my teeth. She was provoking me. She wanted me to lash out, become upset. She wanted me to return to Bella.

"You know why I had to tell her that, Alice," I replied as calmly as I could, "You know it's not true."

"Well, maybe you didn't care enough to worry about her being _broken_, but I sure as hell did. I'm going back."

She must really be looking for a reaction, because it was impossible not to lash out. "You will do no such thing! I promised her peace, dammit! I promised her happiness!"

"Peace? Happiness? I didn't want to do this, Edward, but when I said you were killing her, I meant it literally."

My face seemed to melt away, I could only feel my expression slip and my eyes close slightly. Before I had a chance to think through the implications of Alice's words, all my questions were answered in a vision.

_I was viewing Alice's vision in a third-person perspective. I could see Bella; pale, thin, sallow. She stormed around her room in a angry depression, before finally falling to her knees at the side of her bed. She rested her elbows on the mattress and clasped her hands together. She appeared as if praying. Bella continued sobbing, and gently lifted the covers from the bed. She reached into some unseen compartment, and pulled out an old towel. She then treaded to the window, and sunk to the ground, where she examined her arms. I couldn't see what she looked at in this speculative manner from the perspective I viewed the vision in, but she suddenly unraveled a knife from the cloth and began to draw it across her previously unmarred flesh. She counted as she made each cut, and continued to cry._

"_Three…four…five…"_

The instant the nightmare ended, I heard a rather loud scream of agony escape me. Bella had been so strong, but I had broken her, pushed her emotional sanity passed its limits. I had too much of an impact on her.

"That happened about ten minutes before your arrival."

"Why?" I sobbed," Why over me?"

"She's not like other humans, Edward, everyone knew that. Everyone but you, it seems."

I had lost all control, my walls came crashing down. I jumped off of the couch. "I knew! I knew! She was perfect! She was everything! I never deserved her! I had to leave!"

"No, Edward. You didn't have to do anything. And if you had ever deserved her, you don't any longer." Alice then rose, and slowly walked out of the room. I watched her back as it disappeared down the hall.

She was right. I was the scum of the Earth. And I had to fix it, I had to fix Bella. No matter what it took. It didn't matter if she didn't want me anymore, I didn't deserve her forgiveness. I only hoped she let me save her. Before the unthinkable happened. I ran to the front door.

As I slammed the door behind me, my thoughts were consumed with Bella, and how I had wronged her.

_It will be like I never existed._


	6. It Ends Tonight

**Much to my dismay, I do not own **_**Twilight**_**.**

**By the way, most of the reviews I've received mention something about becoming emotional or crying. Just so you know, that's my goal. Yes, you read right. **

**I **_**want **_**to make you cry. **

**Okay? Alright. And…we're off.**

**Back to Bella. **

_This could be my last goodbye, you cross your heart, I hope to die. _

**BPOV ****(Three days later)**

Some people say you should live every day like your last.

Today, that's exactly what I intend on doing.

Why? Because today, Monday, May nineteenth, will be the last day of my life.

I'm not going to leave a suicide note. If I did, it would be addressed to Edward, and he'd never get the chance to read it. I'm not going to leave a gore scene. Why put anyone through that? But I decided that if I'm going to take myself out of this world, I might as well go out with a bang, right? I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to do it, but I've decided to be, well, theatrical, for lack of a better description.

But what I really wanted was to get up and go through the day. I wanted to be able to appreciate seeing everything and everyone, truly, for the last time. I also wanted to say subtle goodbyes to everyone who deserved them. I wanted closure. I didn't want their last memories of me to be depressed ones. I would make sure I did it right. For everyone's sake.

Now, where to begin. Ah, an outfit for today. How do you dress for death? The thought made me chuckle. It also made me think of a former sister, which halted my laughter immediately. I finally decided on a light pair of jeans and dark navy t-shirt. Wearing white would just set a gruesome backdrop for the day's later events.

I brushed my teeth and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I wanted people to look at me, really look at me today. Just today.

I suddenly heard the front door close. My eyes widened and I rushed down the stairs and out the door, pursuing Charlie with haste.

"Dad, wait!" I yelled. He turned around to my relief.

"Bella, get back in the house. It's freezing, and you have no shoes on." I ignored his reprimanding and got to the point.

"I love you. Thanks, for everything. I don't know where I'd be without you." I didn't miss the raw shock on his face.

"I love you, too, Bells. No matter what. Have a good day." He smiled at me kindly, then turned and got into the cruiser.

I smiled to myself. One down, two to go.

After eating my last meal - a chocolate fudge PopTart - I slipped my shoes on and headed outside. I got into my truck and drove to school.

Well, this should be fun.

As Mr. Mason droned on about our next book in English, one I would never get a chance to read, I searched the faces of my classmates. The ones who I thought liked me. Oh, how I was wrong.

Lauren Mallory. Mike Newton. Jessica Stanley. Eric Yorkie. My first friends in Forks. But at least they weren't the first to betray me. No, their abandonment came shortly after an even bigger one. So shortly after, in fact, that it was almost unnoticed. Almost.

I stared at all of their faces for the very last time. I briefly wondered how they viewed this classroom. I knew they didn't view it like I did. But did Jessica notice how the sun came through the window at the most perfect angle? Did Mike hear the calming sound of rain gently hitting the window? Did Eric see the blue-jay that just flew by? Did Lauren Mallory look around herself knowing that she'd never see any of this again? Did any of them know how it felt to be completely broken? To have no desire to live? To sit on their beds and honestly will their hearts to stop beating? No, they didn't know any of this. It was only me.

The remainder of the day would be the remainder of my life. And it would always be me. Just me.

The bell rang, and I made my way to lunch. I hadn't eaten at school since… a certain departure, but I had always come to the cafeteria. Always isolated. Angela used to come over to talk to me. When she noticed my unresponsiveness, she stopped trying. I decided a thanks were in order.

I purposefully strode into the lunchroom, sporting a newfound lightheartedness. I supposed knowing it would end soon was comforting.

I slowly approached Angela, suddenly nervous. What if she refused to speak to me?

"Angela?"

She looked surprised. I didn't blame her. "Yes, Bella?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second." She nodded. "Alone," I added.

"Alright."

We walked over to an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria. Angela waited.

"I'm sorry," I began. She looked confused. "For being so cold when you were only trying to help. It was very childish of me."

"Bella, it's fine. I underst-"

"I really need to say this to you," I interrupted. I was anxious to leave. She nodded.

"Thank you, Angela. You've been such a good friend to me, even when I didn't deserve it. You've been loyal, and kind, when no one else was. You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you."

She looked about ready to cry. "No problem, Bella. I'll always be here if you need me." She smiled.

"I know. You always have been."

We hugged and parted ways. I decided that it was pointless to stay for the rest of the school day. Besides, I had one more person to say "goodbye" to.

But as I walked out of the school building, I was suddenly unsure if he wanted to be thanked.

"Bella?" Jacob's voice was unexpectedly soft, "What are you doing here?"

"Please," I begged, "I know you don't want to see me, but could I just talk to you?" His eyes tightened, but he agreed.

My hands were shaking. This goodbye would be the hardest. I knew it.

"Jake, I just really need you to know that I love you _so _much." I paused, hearing his sudden intake of breath. I better clarify.

"I mean, before, I was so messed up. Even worse than now. And you were such a great friend to me. You helped me more than anyone else." I hated using the past-tense. "You know," I laughed, "I used to wake up and think 'Wow, I get to hang out with Jacob today.' I really wanted to thank you for giving me something to get up for."

I finally glanced up. Jacob's face was ravaged with exposed emotion. Sadness, grief, rage; it was all there. I yearned to comfort him, but didn't for fear of rejection.

His eyes were downcast, and I mimicked his posture. While I stared as his feet, I saw the tear hit the brown dirt, making a dark spot on the ground. My head shot up.

"Oh, Jake, please don't cry! I'm sorry."

"No! Don't you dare," He yelled. I cringed. "None of this is your fault. Trust me, Bella, this one's all me. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I was such a jerk to you! I didn't even give you a reason for ditching you like that."

"Jake, it's fine-"

"No, Bella. It's not." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I know that I've been acting weird. I'm sorry that I can't explain, really, I am. But right now, you'd be better off without me."

I flinched. Why does everyone say that to me? I was suddenly angry.

"Yes, Jacob. I'll be much better off, considering my lack of friends. I mean, really, who needs 'em?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"I mean not only did my entire second family leave me, but so did the love of my life, everyone I know at school, and my best friend! Wow! Even my father is distant! If that's what you think 'better off' is, then I guess you and Edward are both right!" Angry sarcasm dripped from every word.

My throat hurt from screaming, tears were streaming down my face; some from anger, some from sadness. I turned from Jacob and left.

I hadn't meant to make myself angry, or make Jacob so sad. The plan had been to show him my honest gratitude, then leave. But no, things always had to be hard for me.

I drove home down the long road, a plan forming in my mind. It ends tonight, I thought.

**Boys Like Girls own the lyrics. **


	7. Vermilion

_**I fail at life, because I do not own Edward Cullen. Or any Cullen.**_

_**Nothing much to say here. Just um…read my new story also. Fall Out Boy owns the first song, Slipknot owns the second. Okay, this is the big chapter. Go, Edward, go!**_

_I found the cure to growing older, and you're the only place that feels like home._

**EPOV**

I wondered whether it was day or night.

I was running through a field of sorts, but I wasn't sure where. This was similar to my last hunt --when I blocked out the world and focused on one thing. Bella. Only, this time, I wasn't running _from _her, I was running _to _her. As oppose to last time, I knew exactly where I was going. To the place I swore never to return to again. Forks, Washington.

I didn't know where, when, or how I was, but I was moving on pure instinct, letting my deepest desires awake and do their will.

I fleetingly wondered how long it had been since my last hunt. Try as I might, I could give myself no answer. I didn't know. Without Bella, time passed slowly, yet without notice.

Personally, I didn't care whether I hunted or not. Why should I be indulging myself while Bella…_suffers_? I didn't deserve to hunt.

Yet, if I didn't, Bella's life would be at risk. I sighed. It seemed that ever since I'd met her, I'd been a walking contradiction. My wants were her greatest risks, and in turn, her wants were my wants, making what we both wanted the greatest danger to Bella's life. The only _sure _way for Bella to be safe was for her to be away from me. She had sworn that she would be safe! I couldn't believe that she had broken her promise. It was so unlike her. Then again, I had broken more than my fair share of promises.

I stopped suddenly and glanced around. By the looks of the barren land here, and the forest ahead, I guessed myself to be in northern Oregon. I smiled despite myself, only about an hour or two until Bella was back in my arms.

_No_, I thought abruptly, _an hour until I have to _beg _Bella for forgiveness._

I anticipated a long-term stay with her, so logic overruled my self-inflicted punishment. I needed to hunt.

If only I had known _how much_ I would have to resist.

--

I paused in front of the large green sign. The setting was eerie, and I couldn't help but think how appropriate it seemed.

_Welcome To Forks!_

The cheerful words mocked me. The rain poured down in thick sheets and stung the ground where it fell. The cloud cover was a thick, ugly purple color, adding more menace to the situation. Lightning was striking every few moments, coming hazardously close to the surrounding forest.

I obviously realized I was easy running distance from Bella. I also realized that she was a current danger to herself. But, for some reason forever unknown, I couldn't will my feet to move. I was frozen. Just out of reach of humanity, mortality, Bella, and the only home I had ever known.

Finally, I realized what it all meant. I was always there, always an intrusion into everything that I did. None of this would ever have come to be, if not for my uncanny ability to interject myself into people's lives.

In the beginning, with Carlisle, I had nearly forced myself on him. His compassion, his sympathy couldn't let me die. Why couldn't I have been like any other dying patient? Why had it been _me _that had been saved?

And Bella -- I'm the reason for eight counts of suffering! If I had not affected Bella so deeply, she would not have requited my love, and therefore would disallow me from pursuing her. But I _had _affected her life, in a greater vastness than I had ever imagined. And now, because of my intrusion, my only love was suffering. If I had not loved her so, I would have not been compelled to leave her. That separation, in turn, was the cause of my own agony. And because of that agony, I couldn't stand to be around my family, which brought on entire new rounds of pain.

The curtain was lifted from in front of my eyes, and I finally saw the truth.

"_I should have died when I had the chance!_" I shouted to the sky, to the rain, to anything willing to listen.

--

Agony. Unrepentant, merciless, penetrating _agony_.

I cradled myself in the fetal position, just outside of Bella's home. I had come to this spot in the underbrush to gather my thoughts, to think of something to possibly say.

What I hadn't known was that I would wander into the same spot that had ended my life with Bella. No, that's not right. These trees didn't take her from me, I did that myself.

So, here I sat, dry sobbing like an insolent child. And Bella was _meters _from me. _Fool_, I thought bitterly, _it wouldn't matter if she was _on top_ of you, you wouldn't be forgiven. _I then banished the thought before it became less than gentlemanly; this was in no way the time for such fantasies.

My thoughts took on musical pathways. I sang to myself, I wasn't sure why. Maybe to find some sort of relief.

"_All the torment and the pain_

_Leaked through and covered me._

_I'd do anything to have her to myself,_

_Just to have her for myself._

_But I don't know what to do, _

_I don't know what to do…"_

I suddenly stiffened. I could smell her from here. The floral scent that _still _intoxicated me. I began to hyperventilate, to get as much of that scent into my lungs as possible. I had just begun to stand, but that one brush of wind brought me to my knees. I gasped again, inhaling through my nose and mouth simultaneously. I choked on the scent, but still drew it in. I couldn't get enough. I could _taste _her on the back of my tongue. It was the beauty that I'd never thought I'd smell again.

Before I knew what had happened, I was standing under the all too familiar tree in the Swan's front yard. Just barely hidden from Bella's view from the window.

_Just a few more steps, you shamed bastard_, I though eagerly. But, once again, I couldn't will my feet to take that leap to the window. Previously, I was completely unsure of my actions, but now, having smelt her, I wanted nothing more than to jump to her window. But my feet just wouldn't move.

My frustration boiled. I wanted _so badly_ to take that leap. The literal leap that would place me in front of Bella's window, and the metaphorical leap that would place me back in Bella's life. I stood there for at least five minutes, assessing my feelings. It's not like I was ill. I almost scoffed at the thought. The underlying reason for my immobility must be physiological. But what was it?

I tried once more to move upward, toward the tree. My knees extended, my muscles strained, but my feet stayed firmly on the ground. I had a strong hesitant pressure around my still heart. I wanted to jump, _God_, I wanted to, but I wasn't…ready.

Suddenly, my crudely dishonorable thoughts caught up with me. Even after everything Alice said, after everything I've _seen_, my subconscious held onto the thought that Bella was still better off without me, even if I was no where _near _better off without her.

"_She is everything to me, _

_The unrequited dream,_

_The song that no one sings,_

_The unattainable."_

As quickly as the awareness came, it left. I was aware of nothing but the vision before my eyes. And not any vision like Alice had, no, this was a vision of beauty.

"_She's a myth that I have to believe in,_

_All I need to make her real is one more reason."_

Bella walked calmly around her bedroom, clad in none other that her delicate, light blue prom dress. Her hair hung in beautiful curls, just like the day of the prom. I couldn't see if she wore her heels, thought I doubted it. She wore the same simple jewelry she had on prom night. I remembered the event with perfect, inhuman clarity.

"_Is that what you dream about? Being a monster?"_

"_Not exactly. Mostly I dream about being with you forever."_

I shook the memories away, however futilely, and focused again on Bella, eagerly drinking in her image.

She was the most glorious I had ever seen her. Radiant, even. That is -- until I saw her face. Horror washed through me. Horror, accompanied with guilt, sorrow, longing, pain, and turmoil. Bella's face was a deathly pale, white and blotchy. Her eyes were sunken in, with large black circle encasing them. The brown of her irises was no longer the milky chocolate color. They were reduced to a flat almost-black color. It was hard to place her pupils, for her eyes were so dark. Her mouth was set into a relaxed frown, although she didn't seem relaxed. It was almost as if the expression now came naturally to her; she didn't even have to think about it.

But that wasn't even the worst part. None of that was. Not looking at her, clearly seeing her sorrow. Not seeing an almost-glimpse into the what would have been the future. Not knowing that her suffering was by my hand. Not even seeing the tears gush effortlessly down her cheeks. No, the worst part was when she raised her arm to wipe away those tears…the very worst part was seeing…_all those scars_.

"_She isn't real._

_I can't make her real._"

I became captured in blissful sorrow. She walked with a purpose. She walked into the blackest depths of my despair. She walked to the hiding place. The hiding place for her knife.

My breathing became erratic. All time and reason ceased to exist. All I could focus on was Bella…and the blade in her grasp. And I suddenly knew that this was no longer a ritual. This was to be her final act.

Oddly enough, I felt a surge of pure fear and adrenaline surge through me. If there ever was a time to move, God, it would be _now_. My feet stayed rooted to the moist earth. Thunder rolled, lightning light up the bruise-colored sky. The air was tense with fatality to come.

She smoothly sat in front of her window. Now all I could see was the back of her head and shoulders. The thick silence stayed for a few more countless moments. Then it was there. It consumed my every sense. My last shred of sanity. My endless depths of love. It swallowed them all, and all that was there was the agonizingly beautiful essence of blood.

"_But I won't let this build up inside of me."_

My eyes widened, and the thick scent doubled. I was seeing red. Blood, blood red. I decided to test my little faith for the first time in over a century.

"Please," I prayed. "Let me save her."

As if by some miracle, the heavens opened up, and a thick and powerful bolt of lightning shot down, searing the ground inches away from my own feet. I crossed myself quickly --as an afterthought--, mumbled a thanks, and launched myself into the tired old oak tree, getting a front-row seat to my love's suicide.

"_She seemed dressed in all of me."_

Bella sat propped up against her window, her legs crossed Indian-style. Her wrists were folded on top of each other, sitting limply in her lap. Blood gushed from two large horizontal slits across each one. Agony drowned me. How was I to stop her? The window was closed and locked, and I simply couldn't _break _it; the glass shards would only add to my problem. I finally decided to do something before unconsciousness consumed her. I called out to her.

"Bella!" I cried through the glass.

She instantly stiffened at the sound of my voice. The action stung me for a moment, but I was entirely focused on saving her.

I saw Bella shake her head, as if to rid her of me.

"Bella, please!" I begged.

She slowly rose to her feet, and tenderly turned to face me, blooding steadily flowing from her forearms. Her lips trembled, and her legs shook, but the rush of emotion passing through her now-midnight eyes was the hardest part to watch.

Grief. Anger. Sadness. Disbelief. Pain. _Hate_.

I couldn't see an ounce of love in her dying stare.

"_Stretched across my shame."_

She hadn't verbally responded yet. I glanced at her wrists, trying not to cringe, and knew that our time was running out.

"Please, Bella, open the window!" I sobbed.

"Why?" She said faintly. Her words were hoarse and filled with pain.

I didn't know what to say. What could I say? "_I love you" _? After all I'd put her through, I knew that would be that last thing she'd want to hear. So I said the only thing I could in a desperate situation. The most honest, evasive thing I could come up with.

"You're so young! You can't die like this! Think of Charlie, of Jacob." I knew I'd hit a nerve, but I could care less at this point. Bella had hit _veins_. Then I added inaudibly, "Think of me…"

"I don't care about them," She said. "I've said my goodbyes."

"_And she makes me sad."_

My eyes widened at the lack of effect my words had.

"God, please, Bella, don't leave me like this!" I blurted, Oh, God. What had I said?

Her eyes narrowed into slits and her bloody fists clenched.

"Leave you? _Leave you?_ God, you really are a selfish bastard! I'm not leaving you, Edward. I'm _escaping_."

Her words cut me. Much like my actions cut her. Literally. I realized now that I was far too late to save Bella. She had died eight damned months ago. I killed her. My anger swelled, and pain for my coming loss consumed me.

"You promised!" I screamed through the window, shaking the glass panes with my volume. "You promised to stay safe for me!"

She didn't flinch. "And you promised to stay with me!" She retorted, with nearly as much volume as myself. Then, her tears finally came. "Besides," she whispered, "I promised to stay safe for Charlie, and promises are meant to be broken. But you already know that."

"Oh, God. Oh, God," I panted. I was so frightened. I was shaking with each breath. "Please open the window," I begged in a broken whisper.

"I'm sorry, Edward, but it's for the best," She said lazily. I could tell the blood loss was getting to her.

"_She isn't real. _

_I can't make her real."_

"Please…you-you can't!" I stuttered between sobs.

"I think I already have."

She was lost. I couldn't ever quite accept it, but I had to.

"Tell me you forgive me," I said.

"What?" She whispered, shocked.

"I…" I paused. "I can't bare to watch you dying while hating me. The two concepts would kill me separately, but together…" I shuddered at the thought.

Bella didn't respond, and I glanced up at her in worry.

"I will always understand, in a way. But you've made me realize that the end was long overdue. I'm… tired of pretending I'm something I'm not, Edward. I am not happy." She quoted me bitterly and painfully.

My breath stopped. Her words stabbed my dead heart with unimaginable force. I deserved every pain of love. I deserved to watch this -- my greatest misery. Bella, dying by her own hand, over my betrayal, speaking her last words to me, each one filled with hatred on my behalf. I deserved it all.

"_I won't let this build up inside of me."_

Then she got a dreamy, mischievous look in her eye. She look straight into my unblinking stare. Bella brought her finger to her gushing wrist, wiping it across the slash. She then took her finger to the window and drew a heart in her blood.

"_She isn't real. _

_I can't make her real."_

My throat was tight, anticipating tears that would never come. Then, the fallen angel spoke again.

"I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that," She quoted again. Her ending cruelty was taken in eagerly. My punishment.

I could see her become unsteady, her knees began to shake again.

"No, no, Bella, please, no!" I sobbed, putting both my palms against the glass. She looked remorseful for a blinding second, then her sorrowful stare returned.

"Oh, Edward," She said, putting her hands against mine, our only barrier being the window. "Don't be so sad. It will be as if I never existed." She swooned suddenly, falling to the hardwood.

Her wrists had left gruesome streaks of blood across the window, from where her hands had just been. Her bloody heart had be smeared away.

My aching heart couldn't take the thought of her dying. I couldn't comprehend it. And I suddenly lost control of my feet again. But now, instead of being immobile, I couldn't stop my self from crashing through Bella's bedroom window, cradling her limp body against my own, and kissing her pale bloody lips.

The end was near. But would it be the end of Bella's mortal life? Or of her entire existence?

**I'm sorry this took so long! It's just that I take my writing really seriously. I'm not just going to write anything just to have a chapter. But here it is! I'm also working on the next chapter for my other story The Only Right Way Left. If you like this story, you'll like that one. Okay, I'm going to try to update sooner. Bye for now. And also…****REVIEW!**


	8. Young Thrills And Kills

**Me: Edward!**

**Edward: -sighs- What now?**

**Me: Well, fine then, don't talk to me.**

**Edward: Come on, don't be like that, baby.**

**Me: WTF? Baby? Have you been watching **_**Girl Interrupted**_**?**

**Edward: …Maybe…**

**I own nothing! Fall Out Boy owns the lyrics. **

_I'm a stitch away from making it, and a scar away from falling apart._

**EPOV****.**

My head pounded with each gush of blood.

My mouth flooded with venom as her pulse faded.

My willpower lessened with each passing second.

My heart broke with memories, both new and old.

And I ran.

Her knees cradled over my arm, and her hands still in her lap, I ran faster than I ever had before.

The blood pooled hot and fast in her lap, tempting me to excruciating degrees. But as those memories flooded through me, the red blood stopped being blood, and started being Bella.

I felt as if I was dying with her; our life together flashed before my eyes. And for one fleeting moment, I imagined my life without her. Knowing I was the one to destroy her.

And my legs pumped even _faster_.

"_No, I don't believe that you're bad."_

"_I'm afraid I'd like to stay with you, much more than I should."_

"_I love you."_

"_It will be as if I never existed."_

As if I never existed. I never wanted to hear, see, or think those words in that order, ever, ever again.

Tress blurred together and time seemed to slow. The ten-mile distance turned to a hundred. I nearly broke down again. And the next few hours seemed to pass by without me. As if I was an outsider, watching in on this most horrific of scenarios.

I remember arriving, drenched in blood.

I remember laying her down on the cold hardwood.

I vaguely remember screaming out for help; my lips seemed to move of the own accord. "Carlisle! Please! _Someone_!"

I remember being brought out of the house, along with Jasper -- both of us too far gone in our hysteria.

I remember Emmett coming to search for me.

I don't remember much in between.

I remember being brought back into the house, the fading scent of blood was being absorbed into the thicker scent of bleach.

I remember the blood-soaked towels, the needles, the stitching wire, the antiseptic, the syringes filled with morphine.

The pale body on the sofa.

She was weak, stark white, bandaged…but breathing. And _not _writhing in agony. Curious.

Carlisle noticed. "No, Edward, I didn't change her. But there are some things I must discuss with you."

We ran to his office and sat down.

Abruptly, my mind caught up with me. I put my head in my hands and sobbed tearlessly. Carlisle had only seen me "cry" once before. In a situation rather similar to this.

He smoothly ignored it and continued his conversation.

"Well, Edward, I'll get straight to the point. She's not stable. She's had heavy blood losses, obviously, and her body can't handle it. She's dying. It could be hours, it could be days. I will change her when the time is right."

My head snapped straight up at his last statement. "You will do no such thing!" I yelled. Carlisle looked appalled.

"Edward, I understand how you feel about this, but are you really going to let her --"

"That's not what I meant," I interrupted. I couldn't bear to have him finish that sentence. "If anyone is going to change her, it's going to be me."

"Edward, she has already lost so much blood, if something were to happen…I don't think we should risk it."

"I have plenty restraint," I snapped, then sighed when I saw the concerned look on his face. "When she wakes up, I want her to know that _I _was the one who damned her. I don't want her hatred passed onto you," I added in a whisper.

I expected his shocked expression. "Edward," he said. "What happened?"

I thought about telling him. Going over every excruciating detail word-for-word. And then I thought of the easiest, yet most painful way to explain it.

"She hates me," I confided. "She hates me so much, that she couldn't continue on this Earth knowing that I was somewhere out there." He nodded gravely, then left me to my thoughts.

--

**I know it was short, and that it took forever. Sorry? I suck at updating.**

**But, I have a solution to that! TAKE MY POLL. IT'S RELATED TO UPDATES. If you take it, it will probably make my updates about THREE WEEKS SOONER. So, DO IT.**


	9. Speak Again, Bright Angel

**Hey, hey, look! I posted this chapter a **_**week **_**after my last one! **

**Hahaha. I know I wrote this chapter a little…different, but it all serves a certain purpose, I promise.**

**BPOV.**

Mumbling.

Murmurs.

Speech.

Incoherent.

"…more stable than I originally believed. She's still not doing well, so don't get your hopes up."

"I understand."

Banging. Running. Quick footsteps.

"Let me see her!"

"…burden. My cross to bear."

Deep, shuddering breaths. The door quietly opening.

A name on an angel's lips.

"Bella?"

The swish of satin. Movement. My own? My eyes glance swiftly. Unfamiliar room. Plush linens. Feather soft pillows. Sore wrists. Bandaged wrists. The angel again. The angel of death.

Why death, though? Pale, sorrowful, beautiful. Surely the angel of my demise. I have never remembered such pain. Soul searing pain. The pain of death. It must be.

Another glance at the angel. No wings. Maybe this God is merely an invention of my own. I am gifted, then. To think up something so glorious -- I must be.

The angel looks at me despairingly with his honey eyes. Was he sad for my end? I wasn't. No remorse. I will never look back, for fear I will have that pain again.

He speaks once more. I smile unconsciously -- memories have invaded my mind.

"_Speak again, bright angel!"_

I frown. I shake my head. Concentrate on the angel's words.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. What ever for? I think. "I couldn't let you die. Never like that."

So I'm not dead? I'm alive? Or am I in some form of purgatory? I glance at the angel again. No, maybe this is Heaven.

"Bella?" He asks again. I wonder if I should answer. But how could the weak sound of my mortal voice ever compare to the angel's?

"Bella," He pleads. "You don't have to speak, just please acknowledge that you hear me."

Our eyes have not separated since he entered the room. I nod once, tersely. I'm not sure why. Why the sudden rush of resentment? My thoughts abandon me as I focus on his beauty.

Unspeakable. Unthinkable. Unreal. Unworthy.

I was _so _unworthy.

"Um," The angel stuttered nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I, well, no one changed you. You're still human."

I knew I couldn't bring myself to respond to anything, for I feared the departure of the angel.

Human, was I? Interesting.

I stared more deeply into his eyes, suddenly grasping just how unending the pools of gold were.

Abruptly, another memory gripped me.

"_Favorite gemstone?"_

"…_Topaz. It's the color of your eyes today. I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I'd say onyx."_

I gasped, marveling at the sharp pain in my abdomen. I clutched my sides, looking to alleviate the hollow, gaping feeling.

The angel's beautiful eyes filled with concern.

"Bella? Bella? What's the matter?" Silence. I did not speak.

"Please, angel, say _something_. _Anything_. Anything but this silence." Angel. He'd called me angel? Was I truly an angel, too?

Did I have shimmering golden eyes now? Flawless skin? Incomprehensible beauty? A musical voice, perhaps?

I had decided previously that this angel only spoke the truth. So if he said I was an angel, then I must me. Mustn't I?

And if I were an angel, my voice would not shatter the beauty of the moment. It would enhance it. Right?

I decided to speak to my fellow angel. To ask him the question that burned my throat and made my insides ache.

"Who are you?"

The voice that left my mouth was not the wind-chimes sound that came from the shocked angels before me.

"I am no one," He said, a smile on his perfect face. "I am merely an invention of your mind. Sleep, sweet Bella, return to your dreams."

The angel began to hum an unfamiliar song, and I had no choice but to obey.


	10. As I'm Finding The Words

**I think I like these shorter updates. Again, I own nothing. -sigh- Don't I wish…**

**Here's chapter…which chapter is this again? Oh well. Jacks Mannequin own the lyrics. Back to Edward. If you were confused by what happened in the last chapter, it'll all be explained…now.**

_I come undone. Oh, yes I do, when I think of all the thoughts wasted on you._

**EPOV**

I could barely catch my breath.

Who am I? _Who am I?_

"Carlisle!"

I heard his alarmed thoughts before I saw his face. I didn't give him a chance to question me.

"Bella…she…I--"

"Edward," He interrupted "Be calm, please, for all our sakes."

"Bella's lost her memory."

"…She…what?"

I sighed. "That's what I'm saying! It makes no sense. She asked me _who I was_!" I knew that my voice sounded offended.

"I…well, I'll look into it." He paused. "How did you identify yourself?"

I was suddenly ashamed of my reply to Bella. "Um, I told her that she was…imagining me."

"Edward," Carlisle said, reproving, then stopped suddenly. "Well, I suppose it's the best response in your situation." He looked at me glumly. "Maybe you should stay outside." I nodded. Just because I couldn't see, didn't mean I couldn't _hear_.

Carlisle's footsteps were only audible to me.

I was surprised to first hear Bella's voice drift through the hall.

"You," She said softly, "I…know you, I think. You're an angel I believe I've seen before."

Us? Angels? Hardly.

Ah, but Carlisle couldn't hold back a chuckle. Whether he was truly amused, or laughed at the dark irony, I'll never know.

"Well, my dear, that's a start. Do you know who I am? My name?"

"No," She responded automatically. I cringed. "I've been trying to think of it." She sighed loudly. "The other angel I saw before, was he real?" She asked as an afterthought.

If Carlisle was unsure of how to respond, it didn't falter his response. "Yes. I gather you don't remember his name either?"

"Well, no, of course not," She stuttered confusedly. "You -- I might know your face. Not your name. Him -- I've never seen him before in my life. So beautiful, though," She added in a whisper. I couldn't listen any longer.

Running, running, running. It was a reflex reaction now. A true sign of my weakness. It seemed that whenever I was faced with an impeding dilemma, I ran away in cowardice.

I just couldn't wrap my mind around this strange, angry turn of events. How Bella's feelings had changed from fascination, to love, to sadness, to hatred, to…what? What did she feel towards me if she didn't remember me? Indifference?

_Maybe it was better this way_, I mused. Maybe fate was finally interceding on _her _behalf, rather than mine.

I chuckled darkly. Now, to her, I had truly never existed.

--

"Who am I?"

Carlisle Cullen paced smoothly around his son's bedroom, eyeing the confused girl on the sofa. He had a diagnosis in his mind, he was just waiting for the reappearance of Moody Edward.

He sighed aloud and took a seat next to the brunette.

"Well," He began, in response to her question, "your name is Isabella Marie Swan, but you prefer to be called Bella."

She nodded, an eager expression on her face. Carlisle glanced at his watch, he supposed that he could occupy their time with this until Edward returned.

"Your mother's name is Renee', your father's is Charlie. Renee' left your father when you were a baby, and married a man named Phillip Dywer recently. You moved back to Forks when you realized how your mother missed Phil while he traveled. While here, you met Edward Cullen -- my son -- and after a lot of --"

Carlisle was interrupted by a different voice, one obviously laced with pain. The voice of a man with great sorrows.

"After a lot of stupidity on my part, we became involved romantically. You're Bella Swan. Five-foot-four, twenty four inch brunette hair, deep brown eyes, beautiful, full, pink lips, and an intoxicating scent. You hate Forks. You miss the heat of the city. You hate the cold, the rain. Your favorite breakfast food is PopTarts, and you'll cook anything from pasta to steak for yourself and your father. Your favorite color changes everyday, and the first time I asked it was _brown_." Edward paused to scoff at the memory. "You're an avid reader, interested mainly in the classics. You read Wuthering Heights repeatedly, for reasons unbeknownst to me. You're a fan of rock music, from the early nineties to the present. You like a bit of classical, but you don't know many titles. You have simplistic taste in clothing, although a certain sister of mine frequently tries to change that fact. You have an old beat up nineteen fifties Chevy truck that you love more than anything. You're best friends with Jacob Black." Edward didn't flinch as the name passed his lips. "You're self-conscious and have dangerously low self esteem, despite your obvious beauty. You're always unnecessarily guilty for the most random incidents. You try to shoulder the blame for every wrongdoing, and do whatever it takes to keep the ones you love from pain. You're the most self-sacrificing person I have ever met, and you have utterly no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. I love you with every fiber of my being, Bella, and you hate me with every fiber of yours."

Bella and Carlisle stared at Edward in wordless shock.

Carlisle couldn't form coherent sentences in his mind, let alone on his tongue.

Bella, on the other hand, could find speech, however brief.

"W-why?" She stuttered, frightened by the sudden entrance of the beautiful angel that knew things she did not.

"Why?" He mocked her with a bitter laugh. "I left you for dead."

--

"Psychogenic Amnesia," Carlisle said calmly, after having forcibly dragged me from the room. "Otherwise known as Repressed Memory."

I processed that. "Caused by the blood loss."

"Not precisely," He corrected. "Severe cases, such as this, are caused by some type of head trauma. Whereas, Bella has had none. That's why I believe this is Psychogenic. Stress, rather than injury."

I slowly pieced each word together in my head. Suddenly it clicked. "You don't have to sidestep the truth, Carlisle. I know what I did," I said rather sourly.

He decided to be blunt.

"Because of our abrupt departure, Bella was under undetermined, yet most likely massive amounts of emotional stress." He was in full "doctor mode" now. "Emotional stress can commonly lead to physical exhaustion. With your quick reappearance -- right in the middle of a gutsy act, I might add -- only added to her already high stress levels. Then, in combination with the substantial blood loss, well, we have…this."

"Hope for recovery?" I asked warily, barley concealing my mix of worry and sick hope.

"Of course. The memories are simply repressed. The remembrance is an emotionally painful process, though." He paused. "Especially in this case," Carlisle added.

I nodded my understanding, then sunk to the floor. I cupped my face in my hands and let out a shaky sigh.

"Emotionally painful process", I scoffed.

That didn't even _begin _to cover it.

--

**-dramatic music- So, how about this. I get twelve more reviews, and I'll have the next chapter out **_**tomorrow**_**. Yeah, as in this time **_**Monday**_**. Deal? **


	11. Where Are You Now?

**Hmmm. -grumbles- Well, I only received eleven reviews…but I'm really not that much of a bitch, so here's the promised chapter. This was so hard to write, but it's where the plot is the best, I suppose. Rawr. Now, listen closely. I WANT FIFTEEN REVIEWS. See that? FIFTEEN. Not fourteen, thirteen, twelve. I will be a bitch about this chapter, because it was a little difficult to write, okay? So if I get these FIFTEEN reviews, next chapter will be up by eleven-thirty Tuesday night. Read on. (Lyrics belong to Evanescence.)**

_Maybe someday you'll look up, and barely conscious, you'll say to no one, "Isn't something missing?"_

**EPOV (six weeks later)**

I'm past doubting a full recovery, I know it's not happening.

I didn't need Jasper's ability to know that I was the only miserable one left.

Everyone else was so _blissfully happy _-- they weren't so easily forgotten.

No, just me.

We decided it was best to keep Bella with us, due to her…fragile state. Alice and Emmett enjoyed burning Chief Swan's house to the ground, though Alice didn't enjoy the vision of his reaction to the supposed death of his daughter.

Esme, being so kind of heart, made sure that we stocked his bank account enough that he wouldn't fall homeless. Bella, at the time, was unaffected by the situation. She didn't know Charlie.

Memories of her parents were the first to resurface. That didn't surprise anyone. The surprising -- no, _stunning _fact was what she didn't remember. Or who, rather.

After her parents were remembered, we didn't exactly need to break her the news of Charlie's grief, she pieced it together herself.

The two weeks of her mourning weren't as hard to endure as this.

When she rose out of her brooding, small memories began to appear, triggered by everyday acts.

Getting dressed in the morning brought back memories of Alice.

Bruising her elbow reminded her of Carlisle.

A home cooked meal lead her to recognize Esme.

Her desperation over her father triggered a strong memory of Jasper.

Every unintentional sexual innuendo brought flashes of Emmett.

A television commercial sent her running to recall Rosalie.

But, alas, nothing I did could bring my Bella to remember _me_.

Carlisle told me because I was truly the source of the stress that lead to the grief, her mind was repressing memory of me more than anything else.

With everyone else, Bella never regained her _full _memory. Only enough to get by.

My life raft in the storm, my savior in desolation, was that she was still my same Bella. She was still somehow drawn to me, as I had always been to her.

Was this my sick, twisted chance to start over?

Or was it fate telling me to yield?

I couldn't decide.

She knew my name, my face, and our little time together since she…woke up that first time, but she didn't know _me_. Us.

It was late one Friday night, and I was sitting alone in my new bedroom. Then I heard it.

Chunky, human footsteps. Advancing my way.

A soft knock on my door. My heart soared.

"Um, Edward?"

"Come in, Bella," I told her, barely concealing the glee in my voice.

She looked more frightened of me now then I had ever seen her before. I almost laughed.

"I was wondering if I could…stay in here tonight. I kind of wanted to…talk to you." The last phrase came out in a whisper.

I was full out grinning now. "Of course."

She sat down and took a deep breath, seeming to gather her remaining determination.

"Listen, Edward." Oh no. Please do not say what I think you're going to say… "I feel so, so horrible about this. I don't mean to be harsh, but I've remembered something about everyone. Everyone but you, it seems. And that makes this so much harder, because I've come to learn that we were…romantically involved, as you put it."

"Bella, please, don't tell me --"

"I think it would be healthiest for everyone involved if we all just…stopped waiting."

I was awestruck. "Waiting?"

She sighed sadly. "Waiting for me to get better! Waiting for me to remember you. It makes me wonder what happened…but no one will tell me."

"Bella, I…" I tried to form a sensible response, but even my thoughts were jumbled. She was so calculating, rational. So…right. Why should she sitting around waiting for her thoughts to catch up with her? Why should she wait for me? She's right. We both need to accept the truth. Bella will never remember me. She'll never gain back those once-in-a-lifetime memories. It will never be the same.

"Of course you're right, love." We both flinched at my affectionate omission.

She put her hands on either side of her legs and made to ascend.

"Can…can you please just sleep in here tonight? I used to sing you to sleep every night. Once more?" I begged in a voice I knew she couldn't resist.

"Whatever you need," She said solemnly, sensing my developing misery.

She laid down across my long, black sofa, and I brought her a woolen blanket from downstairs. She snuggled up comfortably, and gazed up at me with concern.

"I'll be fine," I lied. She didn't reply.

I quickly hummed the simply melody forever engraved in my mind. She too easily drifted to sleep.

I took her span of unconsciousness to prepare myself for the sure onslaught of pity, sorrow, and loneliness I knew would come.

How would it feel, I wondered, to be a part of Bella's life, but only as a friend? An acquaintance?

To never be allowed to show her the true signs of affection I wanted to?

To never hold her?

To never kiss her?

To never hear her return my love?

To never see her brilliant eyes shinning with fondness?

But I knew the answer to all these questions.

How would it feel? It would feel like perpetual execution.

Night turned into day without incident. I listened to the steady beating of Bella's heart, and waited for her breathing to indicate awareness.

I suddenly heard it. That little hitch in her breath and the quickening of her overzealous heart. I looked down at her, not bothering to conceal my emotions.

Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her shock boring into my own irises.

"Bella?" I asked with worry. The sound of my voice seemed to break her out of her stunned state.

Her eyes darkened as her hand swung backward, only to collide with my cheek moments later.

She _slapped _me.

--

**Ah, I really didn't like this chapter…**

**Anyway, **_**fifteen **_**reviews, and you'll get another chapter. **

**No less. **


	12. Follow Me Down

**This -points to self- is a very happy author. I got nineteen reviews! ;D Very nice, all. I knew you could do it. I guess everyone kind of knows what happens in this chapter… But, hey, I'll write it just for kicks. This goes out to anyone who wanted her to break her hand…**

**Thanks to ILUVDRACO1991 for being my hundredth review! It made my day.**

**Despite numerous prayers, I still do not own Edward Cullen. -sigh-**

**Lyrics belong to Seether. (Listen to the song, it's Twilight-ish, in my opinion. URL on my profile.)**

_Who's to know if your soul will fade at all, the one you sold to fool the world. You lost your self-esteem along the way. _

**EPOV**

I wasn't sure whether to be more relieved or hurt.

After a short consideration, I chose relief. After all, there wasn't much else that she could do to hurt me.

Oh, how I was wrong.

"Get off me!" She screamed.

I could do nothing but gape in shock. I had a feeling that her aggression meant her memories had returned, but why so suddenly? Of her anger, I'm not too surprised. She hated me before the amnesia, why not after?

Bella brought me back to reality.

"I _said _get off me, you jerk!" She began to pound her fists against my chest, only to pull her right hand back and wince.

I recoiled immediately, launching myself across the room. I noticed that she was still cradling her hand.

"Bella, are you hurt?"

"What do you care?" She snapped.

"I always care," I whispered, too low for her ears.

She uncurled her body, and sat up. She rose to her feet and padded towards the door, I followed silently.

"Don't you dare," She said knowingly.

I waited until she was out of sight, and then resumed following her. When I entered the dining room, Carlisle was already there, inspecting her.

"These aggravated assaults need to stop, Bella. You're really going to hurt yourself one of these days." They both chuckled at the memory of her "attack" on Jacob Black. My mood darkened as the situations were compared.

Carlisle wrapped her hand in gauze to prevent irritation, and then strapped on a Velcro brace.

"Here you are. It's just a small hairline break, right on the inside of your knuckles." He pointed to a spot under her pinky.

"How long will it take to heal?" She asked, her tone disturbingly pleasant as compared to our interaction earlier.

"Two weeks, more or less. Don't take off the brace, and don't clench your hand. We want the bone to set correctly."

"Thanks, Carlisle."

"No problem, Bella."

I wondered what to do. I knew there was a building confrontation, but when would it ensue?

_Now, Edward. _

Apparently now.

"Thanks, Alice," I grumbled. "What wonderful insight."

"Thanks!" She laughed from a higher floor.

Bella suddenly walked around the corner, smoothing down her long sleeve sweater.

She froze when she saw me, just as I had when I caught her scent.

"Bella," I began, but she interrupted me.

"Not now, Edward," Bella said coldly.

"When?" My voice was a whisper of anguish.

"Not now, maybe not ever."

I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. "Bella, I really need to talk to you," I said in what I hoped was an earnest tone. "Especially if you're living with us! I can't stand the resentment," I added.

"Have you ever considered the fact that maybe I _want _to resent you? That I _need _to resent you? That I _should _resent you?" He voice was breaking.

"Of course you should," I mumbled, "I just want you to hear the whole story before you do."

"It doesn't matter!" She cried. "You have no idea what it feels like to have the person you love most say those _horrible_" --she stressed the word greatly-- "things to you!"

But she was right, of course. After everything I put her through, her resentment was only the tip of the iceberg of what I deserved. I deserved a taste of my own medicine. Let the masochism enter.

"You're right. I don't know what that feels like. Enlighten me, Bella. Tell me you hate me."

"W-what..?" She stuttered.

"Pay me back. Tell me you hate me."

"Oh, God," She panted. "I can't do this now," She said nervously, glancing around. Her eyes lightened as they landed on the staircase. "Alice!" She called as she stumbled up the steps.

My feet were doing that infuriating _thing _again. Where I can't, for the life of me --no pun intended--, move from where I stood.

In my confused haze, only one thing was clear.

"She couldn't say she hated me," I whispered to no one.

--

"Oh, Alice, I hate him!"

Alice watched curiously as Bella paced her room in a frenzy.

"So why didn't you tell him that?" She asked.

Bella sighed. "Because I don't hate him!"

Alice raised her eyebrows.

Bella collapsed on the bed set up in Alice's room, specifically for her. "I don't really _hate _him, I guess," She mumbled, "I really _want _to, though."

"You want to hate him?"

"_So much_. Wouldn't you, Alice? You know what he said."

Alice nodded solemnly. She knew, alright. Alice, Bella, and Edward were the only ones who knew exactly what happened that fateful afternoon in the forest.

Bella was suddenly sullen. "All I have left is my resentment, my anger. And he's trying to take it away. Without it, I'll fall straight back into his arms. And I can't bare that."

"Why not? Don't you love him?"

"I'm not even sure anymore!" Bella wailed. "He messed me up good, Alice, and while part of me wants to hate him, the other part wants to let him tell his sob story, wants to fall for him again. But I'm more rational now. That pain was so unbearable. I'd doing anything to avoid it. And if that means that I won't be with Edward, then so be it."

--

After my revelation, my paralysis dissipated. I was gleefully running through the forest, filled with renewed hope.

If I was lucky, I could begin to break down Bella's emotional walls.

I could have my Bella back in no time.

I had come back to Forks, prepared for her to have moved on. Prepared to step aside and let her live. Now that she seemed to be stuck in my life, I wasn't going to let her go.

I would go down fighting.

And if I died in the process, so be it.

I always knew she would be the death of me.

--

**Oh, no! Are Bella and Edward both plotting? The answer is yes, my friends. The answer is yes. Haha. Anyway, thanks for the great reviews. I've decided to set an official review number. Ready?….TWENTY! Bam. That's it. OFFICAL. That is least amount of reviews I want, per chapter, if you want these **_**amazing **_**daily updates. I know you can do it, now. So you can't wimp out on me. Twenty. I'm counting….**


	13. I've Lost My Fear Of Falling

**Yeah, so, it took a few days to get my desired number of reviews. It's cool, though, it's cool. So, this chapter was a little fun to write, and I decided that we needed a check-in with Bella, instead of a third-person segment. Alright, let the plotting begin!**

**I do not own Twilight…yet. ;D**

**Warning: This chapter contains Edward idiocy. **

**Lyrics belong to My Chemical Romance. This is basically the **_**theme song**_** for this entire story. I **_**highly **_**suggest you listen to it. URL on my profile. **

**--**

_Do you remember that day when we met? You told me "This gets harder." Well, it did. I've been holding on forever…The damage you've inflicted -- temporary wounds. I'm coming back from the dead. But I'll take you home with me, I'm taking back the life you stole. We never got that far. This helps me to think all through the night. Bright lights that won't kill me now, or tell me how. Just you and I. Your starless eyes remain. _

_--_

**BPOV ****(Three weeks later)**

I crouched along the banister and stopped at the end of the hall. All clear. I sighed in relief.

Bad move in retrospect.

"Oh, Bella!" he sang merrily from behind me. _Damn_, I had thought I'd lost him. And what, exactly, was his excuse for acting so damn _cheery_? I was minding my own business, trying to brood his loss in silence, and he comes literally chasing me from my misery? How dare he. Humph.

"Yes, Edward?" I asked thorough my teeth, turning towards him.

He ignored my tone entirely. "How are you this afternoon?" He leaned towards me, smiling crookedly, and breathing directly into my face. My eyes widened, and my mouth opened slightly -- inhaling his scent. _Damn_, I thought again, _dazzling bastard_.

"Fine," I said shortly, breaking out of my brief daze. He looked disappointed. _Good_.

"Oh. Well, would you like to take a walk with me?" He asked pleasantly. The look in his eyes made the ache it my chest worsen for a moment.

I sighed unhappily, crossing my arms over my chest. My eyes darted back and forth from the floor to his shoes.

"Edward, I don't think that's a very good idea."

"Why not?" Was he really going to make me say it?

"You know why."

"No, I don't. Enlighten me, Bella." The way he said this was different. It wasn't anything like the last time. There was no sincerity, only sarcasm and malice. He knew exactly why I didn't want to be around him, and it seemed it was finally beginning to irritate him.

This had been our routine for weeks now, ever since that one fateful confrontation. I had been doing everything possible to stop myself from wanting him, needing him.

And, as it seemed, he was doing everything possible to _make _me want him. The thought made me sick. How desperately cruel could one person be? Where was the loving, emotionally sacrificial Edward that I knew? Maybe he was upset that I was living with the Cullens. He did leave me, after all. Why would he want me constantly around him?

I knew what happened the night I tried to…_leave_. Alice saw it, of course. A small part of me thought that she might show up to stop me…or at least…_clean me up_, to spare Charlie. But I never thought that _he _would come. _Never_.

_But_, I thought, _he was the fastest_. Of course Alice would send him, if she planned to stop me.

His appearance only made me want death more.

Guilt, I reasoned, could be his only driving force. His only motive. What else?

I decided to answer his question. Bluntly.

"I don't want to be around you, Edward." His angry expression softened to one of sadness. I didn't flinch. I thought I knew exactly what he was going to say. I was arrogant, because I thought I knew every side of Edward.

Angry Edward.

Regretful Edward.

Guilty Edward.

Angst-y Edward.

Blissful Edward.

Content Edward.

Emotionless Edward.

Playful Edward.

Jealous Edward.

Possessive Edward.

Apathetic Edward.

Happy Edward.

Humored Edward.

Frightened Edward.

Disgusted Edward.

Controlling Edward.

Determined Edward.

…But, um, _Psychopathic _Edward was definitely new.

He gripped the tops of my arms and pushed me rather roughly against the wall. His lithe fingers then slowly slid down my arms, taking hold of my wrists. He picked them up in one hand and held them against the wall.

Edward pushed his body flush against mine, making sure I could feel every line and curve of his skin in mine.

"Don't. You. Dare. Try. And. Stop. Me," he ground out through his teeth.

And then his lips were on mine, and I suddenly wished he wasn't bullet proof…

Because I _really _wanted to shoot him.

--

**Sorry for the long update. I have school now. Ew. Anyway, **_**TWENTY **_**reviews please, and the next chapter will be up by…Thursday or Friday, depending on my homework load. But either one of those days. For those of you looking for something to read in between updates, check out my other story --if you haven't already. It's called "The Only Right Way Left." Also, "Death Day" and "An Alternative Ending" by animehamster are great reads. **

**Until next time…**


	14. The Sun

**Alright, I know I said that I would update a while ago, but do remember that it was a conditional agreement. And my conditions were not met in enough time, but it's good now. Alright, one more thing. Did anyone else notice the lack of good angst? 'Cause I did. This story's coming to a close. Maybe four more chapters. Maybe less. Without further ado, Edward Cullen.**

**I do not own Twilight. Or New Moon…or Eclipse…or…you get it. **

**Lyrics belong to Slipknot and Paramore. ;D**

"_Free my severed heart; give me you." - Slipknot_

**EPOV**

I knew I was a time bomb, just waiting to explode. Blasting up in waves of metaphorical fire, agony, and destruction. What I didn't expect was the mushroom effect to follow.

Was there nothing I could do to break through to her? I removed my lips from Bella's and began to trail them down her neck.

"Edward, please…stop." But I couldn't. Not until she saw. Until she understood. I could _make _her see. _Make _her understand.

Then I smelt her tears. Then I realized her erratic breathing was from…_fear_. I was down the hall in an instant, the shadows masking my countenance. I didn't want her to see the fear and hatred in my expression that made my borrowed blood run cold.

"I…" But there were no words.

Her tear stained face said it all.

_Monster._

And I was gone.

--

Bella's anger had quickly turned to fear.

She tried to push on Edward's shoulders, but he didn't even acknowledge the action. His lips made a cool path down her neck, and Bella swore she felt the graze of his teeth on her skin.

And she was frightened.

Because he continued when she asked -- no, _pleaded_-- for him to stop. And Edward had never done that before.

Her tears must have triggered something inside of him, for in that brief millisecond of time, he shot across the room, took one short look at her, and left.

Bella didn't know how to feel know.

She was just…lost.

--

I rather enjoyed this new habit. Singing to myself. The relief was great. The only thing missing was true human tears.

I sat in my unchanging existence, trying to…cope.

_I am outside, and I am waiting for the sun. _

Would the dawn never break? The clear cut horizon stared back at me, shaded in the contours of night. Only giving an appropriate backdrop to my misery. Bella was my sun in the everlasting night. She was the brightness that sheltered me and guided my way into eternity. How would it feel to be blind forever?

_With my wide eyes, I've seen worlds that don't belong. _

How did it come to this? How did we go from in love to in misery?

Maybe it's just me.

Maybe it's _all _just me.

Maybe it's _always _just…_me_.

_Alone_.

_Give us life again, 'cause we just want to be whole._

_--_

"Bella," he said, and she spun to face him.

_Silence._

But it said _so _much.

She knew him. He knew her. They could read each other so well, the other didn't even need to speak. He saw it. He saw it all. Her pain, her misery. Her longing. Regret, heartache. However, it was all masked under a sheet of stubborn refusal. She never wanted to let him back in.

And he never wanted to see the sun again.

She couldn't see his remorse or his love. She could only see his beautiful face in that frozen mask of callous indifference. Would she ever see his true face again? Could she ever stand to?

But she never wanted to love again.

They stared at each other across the long, white room. And there was no love.

Finally, he spoke.

"Do you know?" he asked her.

"Know? Know what?" she was confused, but hid it in her voice. He could read it off her face.

"How much I love you."

_And I'll take the truth at any cost._

--

**I think that's my best cliffhanger yet. So…this is where it all boils down. I'll only be doing a couple more chapters, then I'll finish **_**The Only Right Way Left**_**, which will be way shorter than this. (CHECK IT OUT) Oh, by the way, I have a new one-shot out, it's called **_**But What Would I Do Without You. **_**So when TORWL is done, I have three-ish stories in my head so, I hope whoever likes this story will follow me as I write. Anyway, if you want the next chapter within the next week, I need 20 reviews. Look, I'll even do the math for you. I have 145 now, so when I have 165, then I'll post it. Thank you! **


	15. Contrition

**Here's the next chapter. It's all in third person.**

**I do not own Twilight or New Moon.**

**I do not own Slipknot.**

**Last chapter besides the epilogue! **

--

_I never wanted anybody more than I wanted you. The only thing I ever really loved was hurting you._

**--**

"No, no, no!" she chanted, devastated.

"No?" he questioned.

"Why?" Bella asked, ignoring him. "Why are you _doing _this to me?"

He didn't answer. Doing this? Doing…what?

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, wondering how far he was actually willing to take this game. Would he forsake her sanity or continue to crush her?

He blinked. Once. Twice. What did she mean? The words coming off her lips were impossible to understand, and he was no fool. They stood in the meaningless silence, his mind blank, hers racing.

Human vs. vampire.

Confused vs. anguished.

Blank vs. cluttered.

There was so much _distance_.

He still hadn't responded to her question. Whether out of cruelty or contemplation, she wasn't sure.

And he thought.

Why _was _he doing this, whatever "this" may be? He wasn't so oblivious as not to see her pain. She was upset. It was blatantly obvious. It was, of course, his fault. But, at the same time, he couldn't see. He couldn't know. He couldn't _read_.

_And therein lies one of many complications_, he thought.

"What am I doing?" Edward finally asked.

Bella didn't even hesitate.

"_Torturing _me," she barely whispered.

"I-I'm just telling the…the truth."

Her pause seemed to last forever.

"The truth?" Bella questioned rhetorically. "You've already made the truth blatantly clear."

Comprehension dawned instantly.

"No, no, Bella! Listen to me, please. Everything I said to you that day in the forest--" Bella visibly flinched, but didn't stop him. "--it was a _lie_. I lov--"

"Please," she begged so brokenly that Edward was stunned. "Please don't say that again."

But alas, he was stubborn. "No. I'm going to say it because it's true. It's always been true. I love you."

And Bella Swan finally…broke.

"Stop it! Stop it right now! Don't you understand? Do you realize what you did to me that day? No, wait, of course you do. You used your horrible words to really hit me where it hurt. And then you left me for dead. And, God, I was the stupid one. I knew it was coming from that first day! I knew that one day you'd get bored…but…but I never knew it would hurt that _much_…And now you've gone and shattered everything I've built. Why won't you let me hate you? Why? It's all I have left! Why do you make me love you? I just want…peace."

Tears began to fall down her cheeks, and she choked on the sobs as they came.

"Peace…" he repeated, remembering that fateful afternoon with Alice. "All I wanted was your peace."

"How is this peace?" she cried angrily, tossing her arms over her head. The sleeves of her baggy sweater fell down her arms. Edward stopped breathing.

He had nearly forgotten about the scars that marred her perfect wrists. Angry lines that danced across her skin, staining it. At least a dozen per forearm. Slash after slash. Her emotions and words were one thing, but these cuts were manifest evidence of his failure, his fault, and his ultimate betrayal. He had the sudden, intense urge to leave the room. He wanted to run, to sprint at such a speed that Bella wouldn't have time to feel the wind blow behind him. He wanted to escape the accusation those scars hurdled at him.

But he couldn't even move at the speed of a mere human. He turned ever so slowly, and began to take his first step towards the door.

"Don't you dare." Bella's voice called out behind him. "How could you walk away now?"

"Bella, please," he begged. "I can't even look at you," he blurted, only realized how his words sounded after it was too late.

Bella became cynical and sarcastic again. Edward could see that it was her sole defense mechanism. Cynicism was the only thing she could shield her heart with. She did it at the scene of her almost-suicide, and she was doing it now.

"Really? Well, Ed, it looks like we have more in common than you originally thought, 'cause I can't look at you, either."

Her indifference, however false, lit a spark in him. He turned sharply with anger etched on his face, only to freeze. When he'd said that he couldn't look at her, he had thought she had absorbed it in an scornful way, but it turned out she knew exactly what he was speaking of, for when his back was turned, she had removed her sweater. She had exposed her scars.

He tried to look at her face, but those furious little lines called to him.

_All. Your. Fault. _

"You want to hate me. You want to move on. You want freedom." He stated facts, rather than asking questions. He was merely prefacing his selfish request. "I beg you, let me explain myself, and then I'll…I'll leave you forever, I swear it. Just…please."

Bella looked at him and tried to sum up her feelings. To speak, or not to speak, that was the question.

She tilted her head slightly, a sign of assent. He exhaled loudly in relief.

"It was all for you," he began hesitantly, afraid of a wrathful interruption. "I wanted to protect you from all the dangers that surrounded my family and myself. First, with James, you nearly died. And then, with Jasper…" he trailed off unsure of where to continue. "Everything I said that day, Bella -- all lies! Every word, I swear it. I've loved you from the first time I watched you sleep, and not once has there been even the slightest threat of lapse or pause in my undying affection." he stopped again and could force himself to utter one more word. "Believe," he whispered.

Bella tried to order her words correctly. She truly didn't wish to sound sharp and ungrateful. She absorbed every inch of his frustrated glory in the point of view of a mortal gazing upon the holiest of angels and saints. And she so badly wanted to believe. And she knew that eight short weeks ago, she would've. She would have fallen into his arms as comfortably as snow hits the ground. But now was different. Now was something infinitely more difficult to overcome. The rekindling of trust.

"I believed everything you said without hesitation. So when you told me that you loved me, I believed you. And when you told me you didn't…well, I believed that, too. Now, I don't know what to believe. Either way, you're a liar, Edward." His name still burned Bella's throat.

"I know. I'll understand if you don't give me forgiveness, I just need you to know that I speak nothing but the truth."

Could she believe him? He was on his knees in front of her, staring intently, painfully, at her wrists. At her scars. She now regretted her spiteful action. Edward was in pain. And without her permission, Bella believed. She believed that he loved her, that he'd tried to protect her, however frivolously. He lost his dignity, but she finally believed.

After minutes of anguished silence, she told him.

"I-I believe you."

It was all he had asked for, but not nearly all he needed.

All he wanted. The ultimate prize.

_Forgiveness. _

Although Bella finally caved under his truths, he felt worse than before. At least before she was ignorant. Now, she knew of his love, yet still rejected him. And he hurt. But at the same time, what right did he have to her mercy? It was true he was contrite, but the sins had been committed.

But Bella read his mind. She was anguished. By accepting his confession, the steel around her heart began to crack. She sobbed and tore at her chest. Edward's eyes widened, and he clutched her wrists, before realizing what he touched. In the next moment, he was across the room, gaping openly at his own hands. Bella looked over at him, at the disgust on his face, and could only cry harder.

She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to love him. But she never wanted to hurt that way again. She never wanted to urge to die again. And Edward was the only thing that brought those dark thoughts to the front of her mind. And she hated it. By trying to end her pain, she'd destroyed any hope. He was repulsed by her now; his soul dirtied at the very sight of her. She couldn't speak.

Despite the selfishness, he voiced his only pained request from across the room. "Could you ever…forgive me?" He waited tensely for her reply.

She held her wrists outward, forcing him to look. "Could you ever forgive _me_?" She echoed with added inflection.

"Oh, Bella," he sobbed, "there is nothing to forgive."

Ten long, heavy seconds held still in the air.

"Then there is nothing to forgive," she repeated, offering him a small teary smile.

Edward's head snapped sharply from her scars to her face, searching for the answers he needed. She nodded. He rushed her. His lips were everywhere.

They sobbed and cried, begged and pleaded, apologized and offered eternal love.

And Bella took her hate, her resentment, and her anger, and suffocated it with her intense, desperate…

_Love._

--

_How about __**twelve**____reviews for the epilogue?_


	16. Epilogue: Whatever You Become

_**I do not own Twilight. I do not own Muse.**_

_**Take us away, Ed. **_

_**Epilogue -- EPOV **__**(Six months later)**_

_So I'll love whatever you become, and forget the reckless things we've done. I think our lives have just begun. _

I traced each scar up her wrist, then back down, letting my fingers dance across the evidence. Bella sighed in pleasure, as if I were affectionately touching her cuts. I grimaced briefly, but cleared it off my face for her. Only for her.

The sense of foreboding frightened me. I knew what was coming; what I had promised.

"Bella," I said. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," she said with an odd look of nostalgia and an astonishing lack of annoyance. "I _want _to."

I knew she was waiting for it, but I just needed to drag it out a little longer. Just a little more time.

A moment longer.

I needed a chance to reflect to the sound of her breathing, and reminisce to the pounding of her heart.

The past few months had be excruciating, to be completely realistic. It was hell. The process of forgiveness was not even close to coming full circle, but Bella insisted we do this now. Both of us, stubborn as ever, had refused to remove the blame from our individual selves.

Bella believed that her _inadequacy _was the cause of my leaving. I couldn't even grace that with a response. Of course, that was my true mistake. Not responding simply confirmed her own twisted suspicions. And we then realized our main problem: trust.

Bella didn't trust me anymore.

Throughout this entire ordeal this was _it_. The thing that could make or break our relationship. Trust. Trust. _Trust_.

Originally, Bella had this overpowering, full trust in me. And I --regrettably-- had the same _lack _of trust in the strength and willingness of her emotions.

So, finally, I succumbed to my lack of trust, while Bella still had her trust in me. I told my lies, and that trust --still in affect-- accepted my words. Now, coming back to her with a "just kidding," her trust had been…shattered.

For the past six months, it had become my labor of love to pick up every metaphorical shard and gently piece it back together. We weren't complete yet -- not even close. Who knows how long it would take to gain back that precious trust? But, much to my glee, there have been improvements.

She no longer cries when I walk out of a room. She no longer asks me if I'll ever come back.

She no longer insists to follow me everywhere.

She no longer asks Alice to see if the future still shows us together.

She no longer shies from me.

Most things have been looking up, except for those eight miserable hours that I watch her at night. Because there's one thing that Bella still does.

She still has nightmares.

And she still _screams_, and _cries_, and _begs _for me in her sleep.

And I still _hate _it.

In what is supposed to be her resting hours, her time of peace, all she sees is horror. The only things I can imagine to make her wail so horribly are images filled with macabre carnage.

But, no. Bella dreams only of me. How horrid.

If I were honest with myself, I would admit that this is a partial driving force behind my agreement. I didn't want to hear those dreams anymore. I didn't want to watch her writhe in agony. This way, she'd never dream again.

_How sick I sound_, I thought to myself. _That I am actually willing this eternal darkness upon her…disgusting._

My other reasons were much more…simplistic, I supposed. I wanted to be able to let myself go with her; I wanted to be with her forever. But above all else, I wanted Bella to be happy. This would bind us forever. I did realize, though, that this course of action would make it increasingly easier for her to leave me, but I callously pushed that thought to the back of my mind. _Impossible_…right?

I ran my hand over her shoulder, and pushed her hair back onto the pillow she was resting on. She exhaled sleepily. I wondered fleetingly if I could coax her into sleep, and give myself hours longer? The plan seemed more pretentious yet welcoming by the second. But then I remembered…_the dreams_.

"_Kill me first! "_

I shuddered. No more making her sleepy.

"Bella," I whispered, patting her cheek. "Wake up, love."

She blinked slowly, coming out of half unconsciousness.

"Welcome back," I told her with a smirk.

"I'm surprised that you didn't let me sleep. Would've delayed the inevitable." I turned my face from her and grimaced at the gold carpet. I hated the fact that she was so used to my pitfalls that it couldn't even faze her.

I didn't respond to her assumption.

"Are you ready for this?" I questioned after a while. "Forever altered…"

"Yes," she said surely. "I'll never be any more prepared. This is where we begin."

"Begin? How can you think that way? This is your end." My tone was sour. She ignored it.

"No, no," Bella countered. "How can it be my end if it gives me more? More time, more life, more youth, more happiness. Freedom from death." Her face was alight with the joy that I was about to crush.

"Life," I scoffed bitterly. "The human definition of 'alive' is the length of time that the heart beats."

"So you're grouping yourself amongst humans now?"

"Bella," I sighed, shaking my head. "You know that's not my point. Humanity is beautiful. Don't throw it away for this."

My argument was pointless, even to me. I knew simply by her calm, sure manner that nothing would deter her. I supposed that I needed to get my rebuttals out of my system -- now, before it was too late to disagree. But I had never intended to upset her. Nothing I ever did with Bella seemed to be correct. _Couldn't I do anything right by her?_

"Why do you constantly do this? Doubt, doubt, doubt. I would have thought this whole"-- she waved her hands dramatically in the air-- "ordeal would have taught you not to doubt my feelings!"

I confusedly shook my head. "I don't doubt you, Bella. Never again."

"Then why are you reprimanding my choice? Like what we have is not worth it!"

"Because it's not, Bella," I cried, distraught. "I'm not worth this!"

"Stop it!" She yelled. "Don't doubt yourself either."

I sighed. We were no longer touching. Bella sat on the other side of the large bed, clutching the golden comforter and taking deep breaths. Soon those breaths would be unnecessary.

No one spoke for a while.

Then she said it.

"What if our roles were reversed?" Her voice was a quiet murmur in the fresh darkness. "What if you were human, and I was the vampire? Would you want me forever, as you say you do now?"

It was a question I had mercilessly berated myself with when she had first approached me with her request. What if? My answer had always been instantaneous and direct.

"Yes."

But I had always quietly hoped that she would not have doomed me. That she loved me as I frustratingly loved her.

"But would you do it to me, were the roles reversed?" I asked.

"If it was what you wanted." She responded quickly, and without the slightest hesitation.

"Are you just saying that so that I will see things in your favor?"

"No. Even if I felt as you do, I'd give you anything."

I blinked and thought her response through.

Did this mean I loved her more or that she loved me less? I thought not. I loved her selfishly, while she loved me _selflessly_. I would forsake what she wanted to spare my own guilt. Would this transition make her any less glorious? The thought was incomprehensible.

_Eternity_. I knew what the word meant, where humans did not. I had always envisioned my eternity alongside my family. Was I now allowing myself to imagine it alongside Bella? Could I withhold my grievances and just let life be?

_You already agreed_, I reminded myself_. It's not as if your haughty honor will let you back out._

"You're right," I said, in awe of her depth. "You always are."

"No," she whispered. "Not always." And her face took on an expression I had never seen before. _Oh, to glimpse into her mind just once…_

I waited for a moment. This was it.

"Edward? I'm ready."

"Lay down, Bella."

I hovered over her, taking in the light glow of her skin, the shine of her eyes, and the scent of her hair. Her heart pounded in a deep, frantic rhythm, but I didn't pause, because she would always be afraid.

"Last chance…" I trailed off deploringly.

She didn't say anything.

I hesitantly kissed up her neck, from her collarbone to her jaw and back down. Reverently. Atoning before the act was committed. Again, and again, and again…

"Get on with it, will you?"

I chuckled lightly, still saddened.

"I'll still be me, Edward. Don't think of it as a funeral, okay? Think of it as a…baptism of sorts."

I laughed in earnest now, amused by the dark irony.

Then, my laughter slowly died, and I was brought back to the present. Bella's body was shaking slightly, and she had a worried expression on her face. Only then did I realize that my hands that gripped her arms were…_trembling_.

"What are you so afraid of?" she whispered, frightened.

_Honest. Honest. Honest_. It was my all-too-recent mantra.

"I'm afraid that…once you're…less breakable…that you'll…_hate _me."

Her eyes darkened with sadness, but she didn't respond, and my throat constricted in anticipation of tears that would never fall. I leaned in to her neck again, and her breathing picked up.

"I'm ready now," I lied. I would never be ready.

"I'll never hate you, you know," she said after a beat of silence. "No matter what you may do, it's impossible for me to hate you."

Her all-consuming love was astounding, but no longer shocking. Her devotion humbled me.

"I suppose I'm not surprised," I replied, then finally conceded to her greatest desire, and sunk my teeth into the flesh of her neck.

This is where we began.

_And tonight, we can truly say: together we're invincible. _

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**The End! I'm sorry it took so long, but I was so sad to see it go. I hope the ending is to your satisfaction. Now, sequel-wise, I don't think it's the best idea. But what do I know?**

**I do want to post deleted scenes, though. So please review the final chapter, and also tell me whether you want a sequel, deleted scenes, or both. Thanks for the support on this story!**


	17. Deleted Scenes: Righteous Love

**READ PLEASE!**

**Alright, here's the verdict: no sequel. I'm sorry if you wanted one, but it's really not a good idea. I want people to enjoy the story, and they can't if the plot goes on forever. But, if you like my writing, I have another neglected story that I will be finishing along with a few interesting AU stories, so bear with me, please. I want to keep my fans. But, because I can't entirely let go, I have these deleted scenes from ISINS to…entertain you. Bear in mind, they are very short. Well, enjoy!**

**-------------------------------------------------------------**

**1 - EPOV, CH. 7, "Window Scene" (FYI, this was only written because I received a lot of questions about this chapter. Mostly, "Why didn't he break the window?" So, keep in mind, this scene is a JOKE. I have a twisted sense of humor, so don't hate me. Very OOC.)**

"Son of a bitch," I muttered, staring at the blood dripping from Bella. I eyed the window frame, looking for the best angle to smash it.

"No you don't!" Bella said hastily. "Do it and…and…I'll kill myself!"

I stared at her.

"Oh…well…I'll kill myself _faster_!"

I blinked.

"See this knife? Break the window and I get it."

Is she kidding?

"You know," she mumbled. "'Dagger, find thy sheath'?" She pretended to stab herself. "Click!" She clucked her tongue. "Out like a light."

And I was gone. I jumped from the window and sprinted to the front door.

"That's cheating!" I heard Bella yell after me.

I quickly kicked in the old front door and was about to sprint for the stairs when I saw it.

"C-chief Swan?"

Charlie's head snapped from Renee's bloody neck. "Cullen! Get out of my house!"

"Shit. Since when are you a vampire?"

"I said get out, Cullen!" He stalked towards me, dropping his ex-wife's body. I was already out the door.

"Crap. Now I _have _to use the window."

Bella was sulking on her bed. I had been gone for all of six seconds. She was still waiting for her blood to run out.

I didn't make myself known, for fear that her knife would end up in her stomach. With quick aim and precision, I threw my entire body through the glass panes. But Bella must have seen my not-so-sly approach, for when I turned to her, -- glass now piercing her skin-- the knife was handle-deep inside her torso.

"Seriously? _Great_." I exhaled, irritated. I made my way over to Bella, who was frozen, eyes wide with shock and pain.

"That's what you get, bitch," I told her, before sinking my teeth into her throat. Now we could all be one, big, happy, undead fucking family.

**(Please excuse my tasteless humor. The other scenes are legit.)**

**2 --BPOV, CH. 15**

"Why do you do this?" I asked him, plainly yearning for the answer. "You lie to me constantly. And now this, the greatest of all. Why?"

"Love," he answered simply, confidently. It angered me.

"Love?" I scoffed. "Love is about _trust_."

"We have trust," he told me. "Love, too."

"Are you so sure of that?" I muttered. I almost didn't regret the look of hurt on his face. "And you're wrong," I added. "I'll say it again. _Love is about trust_. I trusted your lies when you didn't trust me with the truth. Where's your righteous love now?"

**3 -- AlicePOV, CH. 5**

Angry was the understatement adjective of the century. Edward deserved a swift kick in the ass. And I needed to stop watching That 70's Show, but I digress.

The visions have been haunting me for weeks. Like waking nightmares, creeping into the recesses of my mind when I least expect them to.

Screaming.

Crying.

Cutting.

_Blood._

There was always so much blood…

I didn't know what to do. Would Edward care? Of course he would; he loves her. But what if I went back…just for a check-in. These rituals were beyond disturbing. My psyche couldn't take it.

_No, no, no, _I chided myself, _human teenagers did this all the time, however staggering that may be…_

The moment I decided against returning to Forks, a vision struck my mind with the force of a wrecking ball.

_The sky was a dull, cloudless gray. A cluster of people are huddled around something I can't see. Suddenly, a figure breaks through the crowd, running much to fast for a human. I see _myself_ breaking from this crowd. I am followed by Jasper, Esme, Carlisle, Rosalie, and Emmett. Only Edward is absent. As my family follows my retreating form, a deep voice speaks above the crowd._

"_We are gathered her today to remember Isabella Swan…"_

_No._

No.

NO.

Before the vision has a chance to end, my cell phone is in my hand.

He's going back.

_Now_.

**4 -- BPOV, Epilogue**

"Bella," he told me. "You don't have to do this."

My mind flashed with recognition at his words, and my eyes swelled with tears. Renee. I would miss her so much…

I closed my eyes and tried to look serene. "I know. I _want _to."

"_Bella," my mom said to me --the last of a thousand times-- before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this."_

"_I _want _to go," I lied. _

This time, it wasn't a lie. And he was wrong. I did have to do this.

**5 -- BPOV, Epilogue**

"You're right," he said, seemingly stunned. "You always are."

Though his words were clearly a compliment, they still stung.

"No," I whispered back. "Not always."

_He just needed time, I told myself. He would get over this…After all, what happened last night was nothing. Nothing had happened…It's nothing, I told myself over and over again. Everything will go back to normal…_

_--------------------------------------------------------_

**READ PLEASE. **

**Bam! Now it's really over. So, firstly, don't hate me for that first one. TOTAL JOKE. I know it was lame, but whatever. The point of this A/N is: DON'T LEAVE ME! I would hate it if the fans of this story disappeared because it's over. If you like this, you'll like all my other writing. So, please check out my page. The Only Right Way Left will now be my top priority, then I have some AU, mythology type stuff lined up. So, tell me what you think about these (points upward) and stay with me!**


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